never is a promise
by ashinsnow
Summary: how far would you go for the one's you love? give it a chance... lol ya know you want to read it!
1. Chapter 1

**A new story I'm working on. Hope you enjoy the 1st chapter; please review it always makes me ecstatic. cheers.**

Last week I almost lost my life. But much worse, I almost lost Sam.

It was an average day, on the road- driving to the next town. I vaguely recall Sam's thundering snores as the only reason for my consciousness. We had both taken a beating in the last gig; a nasty ghost with a fetish for breaking people's necks. While we had both escaped without that misfortune, I was sporting a ruggedly handsome black eye and Sam had ten stitches above his eyebrow. We were both exhausted and lucky for Sam- he got to relieve that exhaustion as was clearly apparent from his outpour of what is most accurately described as a cross between a fighter jet and a car with no muffler.

I repeatedly found myself nodding off and at one point my head bounced painfully off the steering wheel. I was an instant away from waking Sam or pulling off the road to nap when I noticed a car broken-down on the side of the road and a particularly fine damsel in distress. Grinning weakly I realized God was smiling on me today. I pulled off the road and not bothering to wake Sammy I approached the leggy red-head who was frustratedly prodding her cell phone.

"Broke down?" I asked casually as I strode up to her, a stunning vision of a knight in white armor.

"Yah," she distractedly answered as she swatted her hair out of her face. "My cell phone's not working either, how very convenient."

"Mind if I take a look?" I questioned while bending to check under her hood.

"Oh sure, that would be great- I know little to nothing about cars," she smiled as she stuck out her hand and introduced herself as Tonya.

"I'm Dean," I answered as I took her hand in response and then bent back to peer at the car's internal organs. "Well Tonya, it appears that everything is in working order."

"Really? I can't get it to start. I've tried like a hundred times," she said indignantly.

"I'll just try it once more, for the hell of it," I smiled as I sat behind the wheel and placed the key in the ignition. The car started with perfect ease. That's when I first thought that something was up.

"Oh my god! I can't believe it! Look's like you've got the magic touch," Tonya approached me as I stepped out of her car. "I can't thank you enough."

"It was nothing," I answered uneasily; it really was nothing.

"No, it was great…" she smiled "…and that's why I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" I queried confoundedly.

Just as the words left my mouth I was immediately gripped by four strong hands and wrestled into submission.

"What the hell?" I shouted furious at my capture.

"Sorry baby," Tonya smiled slyly as she rubbed a finger down the side of my face. "We've all gotta make a living somehow. We steal cars. And I couldn't resist this one," she laughed as she walked over to stoke _my _car, that…

"Bitch." I cursed vehemently and attempted again to break free from the two bearded goons that held me. I had realized with a sudden stab of pain that Sam, my idiot brother, had somehow managed to sleep through the whole ordeal and was sitting naively in the back seat of the car these thieves were about to steal.

The taller of the two goons cuffed me hard, conveniently on the same side of my face as my previously obtained bruises. I fell down without realizing why and blinked back the sudden wave of dizziness that was causing my world to tilt.

"Look," I began, hating the way my voice came out almost pleading. "My brother, he's sleeping in the back. Can you just let him out please?"

"Your brother?" Tonya cackled. "Oh this is getting interesting."

"Just let him go, you can take the car- you don't need him," I moaned while pushing myself awkwardly back to my feet. I could feel the blood running down the side of my face, could taste the salty sweat of panic.

"Greg," Tonya ordered. "Go get the brother out of the car and bring him here."

I was released by the shorter goon; Greg apparently, and quickly realized my chances of escape had increased- if I could just reach my knife…

Sam, with the look of someone just surprised from slumber, was dragged by Greg out of the car.

"Dean?" he frantically prodded.

"Umm, I kinda screwed-up," I muttered annoyed at his face of angered concern. As Sam questioned first Tonya and then Greg and even the nameless goon holding me I shifted slightly, taking advantage of Sam's badgering to reach my knife.

"Ohhh not so quick," Tonya haughtily strode towards me, catching my grasping hand and twisting it with surprising strength. I could feel bones breaking in my hand, the cracks hung dry in the air and Sam winced forlornly.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" I groaned as I keeled and once again almost fell. Tonya reached to take the knife from my back pocket and gently caressed it in front of my face.

"Looking for this?" She laughed loudly. "Here you can have it."

And with speed I was not expecting in my pain-induced state, she shoved the knife deep into my abdomen.

"NO!" Sam screamed and almost broke-free from Greg.

I blurrily recall exhaling and then realized frantically that I couldn't inhale. This time I did fall to my knees and kneeled there gasping for the oxygen that would not come. I could fuzzily see Sam fighting and kicking both Greg and the other goon who apparently had loosed his hold on me, as they attempted to drag him to the car.

Why were they taking Sam? They just need the car. I tried to call out- tried to stop them, but instead I just coughed blood. I had two thoughts as I watched my impala and my brother stolen down the road. First was "how could I be so stupid?" Second, "you're never gonna get away with this." And that's when my face met ground and all thought stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

**A little Sammy POV, lol and some Dean POV too- things are heatin' up- reviews always make my day!**

I was dreaming about a man who told me I had won a trip to Australia if I could just name all of the presidents- when I was roughly and literally dragged out of sleep. My first waking thought was an attempt to scream at Dean who I was convinced was pulling another one of his oh-so-funny pranks. Then I realized that the man yanking me out of the car was not my brother but a large tattooed freak with way too many muscles to not be well acquainted with steroids.

"What the hell?" I managed to shout as I tried to get my bearings and actually see straight. I was dragged in front of the impala which was parked next to an old red car and my brother, furiously restrained, with a look of sheepish pain.

"Dean?" I questioned completely in disbelief that my brother had managed to get us into such a mess. I was sleeping for what, an hour?

"I screwed- up he muttered." Hell yes you did, I wanted to retort. But instead I turned my attention to the red-head chick who appeared to be the catalyst of this whole ordeal.

"What is going on? Who are you?" I demanded. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Dean cautiously reaching for his knife I knew was in his back pocket. I continued to shout and even tried to free myself from Mr. Muscles- acting as a decoy.

But that bitch saw Dean too and grabbed his hand, twisting it back so hard I could hear the bones pop. I lunged against the arms of my captor, struggling to free myself.

And then she took his knife and stabbed him. I felt all the air go out of my body and I screamed as I wildly flung myself, kicking and flailing- using all means necessary to get to that bitch and rip her head off.

"DEAN!" I screamed as the other even bigger freak assisted his friend in dragging me back towards the car. Why the hell are they taking me? I've gotta get to Dean… I watched as my brother fell to his knees a look of surprised consternation spread over his face, blood was seeping through his shirt.

I was flung un-mercilessly into the back seat of the red car and practically sat on by the larger freak as the bitch got in _my_ _brother's_ car, a smile on her face. I struggled furiously to look out the window as my hands were roughly tied behind my back…

…the last thing I saw was Dean fall.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke to the taste of dirt and realized I had been basically kissing the ground for the past… God I don't know how long. Every inch of my body throbbed particularly the place where I was _stabbed_- "God I'm gonna kill that bitch." I realized as I pushed myself to hands and knees that I was probably bleeding to death but that didn't phase me because I had my brother to save… and well my car too.

I saw with a kind of dreamy acuity that they had taken both cars "damn, there goes the rescue attempt," I muttered and almost fell back to the ground. Instead I dizzily pushed myself to my feet and stood for several minutes attempting to acclimate myself to the prospect of standing. Groaning from what felt like, well a knife, being stabbed into my gut, I took a small step forward.

"Shit, this is gonna take a year," I grunted- realizing that there was no way I would be able to walk to the nearest town before passing out. I briefly toyed with the notion of some car driving by and giving me a ride, but considering I was in the middle of Montana; it wasn't really likely.

In my many years of broken bones, cuts and various internal injuries, I have never let myself cry. This was the closest I've ever come as I realized that I was standing in the middle-of-nowhere, with a broken hand, a stab wound, no car and most of all no Sammy.

"Suck it up Dean," I growled at myself as I pushed my body into the motion of another step and began what I'm sure looked like a ridiculous drunken stumbling to any animals who were present. I stopped every 50 yards or so to gasp for breath that was becoming so limited in supply lately, attempt to maintain pressure on the whole in my stomach and wipe away the sweat that was streaming down my face from the exertion.

Eventually I reached a road sign. It said _Rock Springs_: 24 miles, and what did I do?

I passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sooo the next chapter. A little angst goin' on and definitely some suspense. So let's hear your thoughts, negative or positive –reviews are always adored. **

_sam…_

After nearly an hour's drive we pulled down a dirt road and drove several more miles to an old run-down farm house. We stopped abruptly and the impala pulled-up next to us. I had been contemplating my escape during the drive and was readying myself to run when they opened the door, but to my great disgust the two freaks grabbed me securely before the door was opened and I was led out into the yard. The red-head marched up to me and shocked the hell out of me when she said…

"…Sam Winchester. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"What? How do you know who I am?" I angrily questioned.

"I know a lot of things Sam. It's one of the benefits of consuming people's knowledge," she replied as she sauntered to my left then turning to face me, changed before my eyes to reappear as a tall, dark-haired man with a graying beard and black eyes. "When you acquire people's minds you also have the added bonus of assuming their appearance."

"You! You're the demon that sucks-out people's brains! You're the reason so many people are ending up in mental hospitals, you're why we're here…" I gasped to continue and was interrupted.

"Sam, Sam. Slow down. We'll have plenty of time to discuss the details. Well, I will anyway once I steal your mind," he began to laugh to himself and I, for what seemed the hundredth time that day was filled with a homicidal rage.

"What do you want with me?" I bitterly retorted.

"I think you know the answer to that Sam. You're special. You have the gift of seeing into the future. That would be a nice addition to my collection," he slyly smiled.

"You're not taking my brain! I'll stop you! My brother will stop you!" I screamed, not caring that I sounded like a pouting 5 year old.

"What? You think your brother will save you? Ohhh Sam. The only help your brother can give now is to be food for the vultures," he mocked as he turned to walk towards the house. "Lock him in the shed; I'm too tired to deal with him now."

"You bastard!" I screamed as I was once again dragged. "I swear I'll kill you! My brother's not dead!"

I was thrown into a dark, dusty shed where I stood my chest heaving with indignation. "Dean's not dead," I muttered to myself angrily kicking a rusty chair across the room. I threw myself against the door in a futile but calming fury until I fell heavily onto the floor and found myself sitting- knees to chest as if a scared school-girl.

The image of Dean, an intense look of surprised pain on his face, kneeling as if waiting for the final blow of the executioner's axe- percolated into my every thought. The fact that he couldn't even rise to prevent the robbery of his car and most of all to fulfill his ever-ceaseless role of protective older brother, shook me to the core. Harsh reality blared in my face that my brother was dead, that there would be no rescue, and I would be soon reduced to a mindless shell alone in a mental asylum.

"This frickin' sucks," I said to myself and then tears came, completing my forlornly childish image.

_dean…_

I awoke to the feel of a cool breeze on my face. Opening my eyes I was stunned to discover not the harshly open blue sky but a ceiling and a fan that was creating the wind. I sat up slowly, my hand quickly reaching for my abdomen which I was surprised to find expertly bandaged. There came with this realization also the knowledge that I was fucked-up. Each breath was an excruciating endeavor, each movement a thousand slivers of pain. I looked-up to discover I was in a small bedroom and sitting at the end of the bed was an old lady knitting.

"You're awake," she calmly stated and then stared at me with strong, clear eyes.

"Did you bring me here?" I asked slowly rubbing sleep from my eyes.

"My grandson, Buddy, he did the lifting- I just cleaned you up a little," she replied turning back to her garment.

"Thank you, that was very kind of you," I smiled graciously as I awkwardly stumbled out of bed and reached to put on my shirt.

"Where do you think you're going?" she sternly exclaimed.

"Umm, I have to go, I have to meet someone," I lamely replied and headed towards the door. She stood to block my path.

"You've been stabbed and unconscious for almost three hours and you're just gonna walk out of here?" she reprimanded me with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah…" I uncomfortably answered and this time made it out of the door. "But thank you for everything, I really appreciate it."

"Get yourself to a hospital, son. Whoever you have to meet isn't worth your life," she called from the porch as I stumbled down her driveway and down the road into town.

"Hell yes he's worth it," I thought to myself as I staggered towards a payphone outside of an old gas station. Desperately searching my pockets for change I began to dial Sam's cell phone, hoping upon hope that he would have it with him as it seems he always did.

It rang with no answer. "Dammit Sammy," I groaned feeling light-headed for the millionth time that day. I hung-up the phone forcefully and sunk down to the ground. Though fairly accustomed now to the wreckage that was my body, I was overwhelmed by the fact that my only option left was to search the town for a sign of my car, and then the next town and the next town…

"This frickin' sucks," I grunted as I laid my head to rest against the side of the phone booth and gave-in to despair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry this chapter is kinda short… I've had crazy testing lately, not to mention training for my new esteemed position of hostess lol. Anyway I thought I'd throw in a little classic Dean humor. Hope you enjoy- review are absolutely necessary lol!**

_dean…_

An hour later I found myself stumbling down the road in time to The Proclaimer's tune "I Would Walk 500 Miles," that was running through my head. My blood-lacking brain found this particularly amusing because I began to laugh ridiculously as if drunk and was not at all surprised when the laughing turned to coughing and then bleeding and around and around we go.

The still lucid part of my brain knew that time was running out for me and for the hope of rescuing Sammy. "If I could just find a damn car to hotwire," I muttered for the millionth time. The classic downfall of being in the middle of nowhere was of course the lack of people and thus the lack of cars. I had since out-walked what was the booming metropolis of Rock Springs and was now headed- according to the signs that were becoming increasingly blurry- towards Angela.

"I dated an Angela once," I found myself telling a gray squirrel that passed in front of me. "Damn was she fine. Tall, long blond hair, phewww…"

I felt myself slowing down, each step becoming a struggle. My nearly unconscious body rationalized with my fading brain to allow just a moment's rest. "Just a short break," I informed myself as I dropped to the ground, not even bothering to move off the road. "It's not like there's any traffic or anything," I joked aloud and thus began round two of the stuporous laughing.

"Pull it together Dean," I grunted as my hand reached involuntarily to my abdomen. I had bled through the bandage and found myself amusedly staring at the odd pattern of red that somewhat resembled a rabbit…or maybe a fox. "Damn, blood loss is worse than drugs."

"Well, time to go," I announced to the approaching dusk and heaved myself once again to standing position and began to walk.

"Shit, if I only had a horse."

_sam…_

Night had fallen and it was pitch-black in the shed where I sat forlornly. I had attempted every manner of escape possible, including focusing my newly acquired powers of moving large objects with my mind. Considering I had been able to move an extremely heavy dresser at the thought of Dean's ensuing death, one would think the notion of not only Dean's imminent death but my own loss of a brain would prompt some results- but no, there was nothing. My only plan was to wait for the thugs to arrive and attempt to jump them, but even this plot was beginning to fade with the weakness of malnourishment and sleep deprivation. So instead I turned my hope to Dean.

Dean had always been there for me, both as moral and physical support. Growing up, playground bullies had known better than to miss with Dean Winchester's brother. Granted once I had grown-out my painfully short and pudgy period and surpassed Dean by four inches I no longer "needed" the protection, he was still there. I've learned to count on Dean, rely on him. He is always there- no matter how much I wished him and his immature wisecracks would take a hike, no matter how annoyed I was by his music, his flirting, his unwavering submission to Dad- he was there. And now he wasn't. And I missed him.

"God dammit, I miss him."

_dean…_

"Here pretty horsie, I'm not gonna hurt you."

It was the dead of the night and I found myself ridiculously attempting to persuade a large black horse close enough so I could steal it. The thought that I had no idea how to ride a horse or even how to go about getting on it, hadn't crossed my mind yet as I carefully straddled the fence standing between me and my adversary.

"C'mon, please!" I pleaded, waving a piece of grass in his direction. "I just wanna ride you."

I was almost startled enough to fall off from where I was perched, when the horse suddenly lunged towards me and nuzzled my hand with it's extremely large and perfectly-capable-of-eating-my-hand mouth.

"Hey, little fella," I laughed as I patted the horse on the head. Slowly, so as not to startle him, I began to ease myself from the fence and onto his broad backside. Only minutes later I was surprised to find myself sitting abroad it's docile back. "Dean Winchester; cowboy… that's a new one," I thought to myself as I contemplated how to go about making it move.

"Ummm, giddy-up?" I cautiously prodded with my heels and almost yelled when the horse sprung forward and only just managed to grab his neck in time to save myself from a long fall.

And so I began, riding a horse down a Montana highway, determined to find and save my brother and hopefully not die in the process. It was late, that much I could tell and even with my sporadic naps throughout the day, exhaustion was beginning it's ascent. My eyes were growing enormously heavy, my whole body weak from the effort of almost constant motion…

"…Hey Horse, I don't know if you can understand me but, we're looking for my brother. He's tall (taller than me the little shit), and he's got brown hair and…

…why the hell am I talking to a horse?"

Intense frustration kicked into overdrive and I almost fell off in my rage but instead I nudged "Horse" with my heels and leaning forward found myself galloping into the darkness, a cowboy on a mission, dead-set to rescue my brother from the mess that was all my fault.


	5. Chapter 5

_dean…_

**So the finale… what to say? I'm soooo scured for them lol. Anyway this is the latest chapter- I know it's been a while. I expect reviews… I expect no less lol. **

Two hours and several severely sore and delicate body parts later, I guided "horse" down a dirt road towards what I excitedly thought was the rear bumper of my baby. I had blearily spotted it from the road and immediately headed towards it, however wary I was of the convenience of being able to see it from the road. Granted, Tonya and her cronies probably thought I was dead.

"Just about…" I muttered as I gingerly touched my bleeding abdomen for the zillionth time this nightmarish day. "Cross your fingers horse… or hooves or… whatever," I grunted as I slowly slid off horses' side and began to walk towards the car, barely visible in the moonless night.

"Whoa, wait," I said quickly turning around. "Could you ummm, stay here yah think?" I found myself asking the horse as if he could answer. "Okay… how bout Stay," I commanded to no response. "Oh shit, that's dogs. Well this better be my car, cause I guess you're not stickin around," I angrily mumbled as I watched the retreating ass of my momentary transportation.

I began once again to creep down the driveway until I ecstatically discovered that the bumper I had viewed from the road did indeed belong to my beloved impala. And if the impala was here that meant Sammy would be close by. Farther up the driveway I could see an old white farmhouse, eerily glowing from what appeared to be lit candles in the windows.

"Okay, that's creepy," I chuckled as I stalked towards the house. Just as I was about to ascend the front steps I heard a loud clanging coming from a shed a little past the house.

"Sam?" I questioned to no one in particular. I quickly changed directions and approached the shed, only stopping to grab an old shovel which was leaning against a rusty gas can. My hand reached slowly towards the door knob and pulled. Nothing. It was locked. I rattled it a few times anyway and was filled with relief when I heard the challenging query in what sounded distinctly like my brother's voice;

"Who's there?"

"Oh thank god, Sammy it's me," I quickly answered.

"Dean? I thought you were…" the muffled reply came.

"Dead?" I completed his sentence. "Not yet. But someone's gonna die tonight, just wait till I find that Tonya bitch," I rambled while searching my pockets for something to pick the lock.

"Dean listen," Sam demanded. "It's not a bitch, it's a demon. The demon we were looking for, ya know the one that sucks out people's brains? Apparently he wants my knowledge or my visions or whatever but…"

"Whoa tonto, slow down," I murmured as I concentrated on the lock and the two paperclips I was maneuvering. "Demon you say? Well all the better. I didn't really wanna kill a girl, even if she did stab me."

"Dean," Sam's voice came from even farther away, maybe the other side of the shed, "I don't know how we're gonna kill this thing… I mean do you have any ideas?"

"Look Sam. The only thing we need to worry about right now is getting you out of this damn shed. Then we can speculate on killing this demon," I lectured as I felt what could be the door about to open…

"Not so fast…" came the coldly deep voice from directly behind me.

"What the hell?" I gasped turning around to discover a really tall, bearded guy and those two goons back for round two.

"I'm surprised to see you here. I didn't think you'd make it," he chortled.

"You? You're the demon? Oh boy, you're gonna get it. You tore my lynrd skynrd shirt!" I retorted using my jokes to create time to search for some weapon… aha the shovel.

"On the contrary Dean. I believe it is you who is "gonna get it" as you so charmingly put it. You've lost a lot of blood, do you really think you can hang on much longer?" he taunted gesturing towards the seeping red stain that had completely conquered both the bandage and the remainder of my shirt.

"Dean!" I heard Sam's muffled shout come from the shed. "Leave my brother alone! It's my mind you want! Just let him go!"

"No Sammy," I yelled back. "I can't let him take the brains in the family," sending a smirk towards the demon.

"Have it your way," he simply stated as he turned slowly and then lunged back as if to kick me. I was ready with the shovel though and weakly fended off his flying foot only to be thrown backwards by the force of it.

"Haha, not so strong are you," he sneered, his face floating over my spotted vision.

"Yah, well it's been a really shitty day," I groaned, cunning to the last.

"It just got a lot worse," he mocked as he brought his foot down with tremendous force, into my already damaged abdomen.

I couldn't manage to keep in the scream of agony as I experienced pain a thousand times worse than the initial stabbing. Black was edging in through the corners of my vision- all I could see was his ugly, laughing face- all I could hear was Sam's screaming my name from the shed where he was held captive- all I could taste was the bitter blood that was blocking my airway.

"Not this again," I blankly thought as the black overtook me and I floated into oblivion.

_sam…_

"You bastard!" I screamed my voice hoarse and brittle.

I had just heard the most pain in my brother's scream that he had ever expressed. I don't know what the demon had done to him, because _I_ am still locked in this damn shed. There was no more noise. No more screams from Dean, no more sinister laughs from the demon I swore to kill. Not even the wind. Silence. And that scared me the most.

The door suddenly swung open, startling me so much that I almost tripped backwards over the chair I had previously kicked.

"Sammy," the demon whispered as his face appeared from the shadows of the doorway.

"Don't call me that," I threatened with fury-shaking voice. "Only my brother calls me that."

"I believe you mean to say, "called" you that," he instructed as a wide smile spread over his face.

"I swear to god…" I lunged at him only to be pinned immediately by his two demon buddies and once again dragged, this time out of the shed.

My eyes flickered incessantly, attempting to adjust to the contrasting light of the dawning sun to the east. And as they adjusted they saw in the harsh-red rays of the sun, my brother, lying on the ground in a crumpled and bloody heap, his eyes closed firmly, his face a mask of surprised pain.

"Noo…!" I screamed throwing myself against their arms, my furious mind still able to realize the horrible déjà vu of this endless horror. Dean had survived once, but twice… oh jesus. And as I admitted this to myself my body submitted itself to be dragged, towards the house, towards my fate. And as I watched my brother's body fade into the murky distance of my tears I thought it would be nice to be mindless.

Because thought brings so much pain.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's the newest installment. It's been ages I know, it's been a crazy month basically. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter and review because you have to lol. **

_sam…_

I was dragged into the house and viciously tied to a chair in the front room. I weakly struggled against my bonds before giving-in to simply glaring at the demon. He paced in front of me, a serene look on his face, fingers stroking his beard. I knew he was going to take my mind but that's not what I was thinking about. I was thinking about my brother and how he fought for me and now here I was, helplessly tied to a chair, while he bled to death outside- unable to fight for him.

"Sam," my thoughts were interrupted by the demon's sudden declaration. "Are you ready to lose your mind?"

"Does that really matter?" I spat, as my arms strained at the ropes keeping me from wringing his neck.

"So much anger… you'll be easy to take," he mused as he stopped to look out the window. Just then the front door swung open and the two apes walked in and stopped in front of the demon, as if soldiers about to report.

"Everything's taken care of," the taller one muttered.

"Good." he replied as he slyly turned to glance at me. "It appears your brother is finally dead. And this time I believe he'll stay that way."

Every fiber of my body shook in rage as I lunged forward, almost toppling the chair, "YOU BASTARDS! I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"Easy Sam, soon you won't have to feel the rage that burns in your very organs," the demon leered, leaning within inches of my face. "In fact, I'm feeling generous. I'll end your pain quickly."

He reached to grasp each side of head with his hands, firmly pressing his fingers into my temples, and then closing his eyes leaned back and inhaled deeply. With his inhalation I felt a trembling, almost like an electrical shock, run through his fingers and into my head. It didn't hurt, in fact it was almost calming as I became numb to my feelings of rage and hatred.

"That's it," he murmured as blue orbs of light ran through his hands, up his arms and into his own head.

And then I saw Dean. I saw him as if he was standing in front of me. The intensity in his eyes bore holes through me- his stare was a new jolt of energy, one to counter the demon's. My eyes flashed open and a green bolt of light flashed up the demon's arms.

"What the…?" the demon cried as his eyes startledly opened and locked with mine.

"Not so fast," I groaned with concentration as my mind awoke with a purpose- to stop the demon, stop him and save my brother.

The blue light from the demon and the green from me met between us and formed a glowing white orb which slowly consumed the space between us. Gritting my teeth in determination I focused all my thoughts on freeing my mind. The demon's eyes were wild, his expression one of fear as he began to be overtaken by the light. Suddenly with a flash, the light lit up the room and everything was white. Blue orbs spun through the air in every direction- the people's minds that the demon had already stolen, flying through the air to return to their rightful bodies. And then with a pitiful scream the demon and his two cronies exploded into a thousand points of light- so bright that I fell backward in my chair in an attempt to shield my eyes.

Then all was still. The light had dissipated and the minds had long since disappeared. I was alone and lying sideways on the floor, still tied to my chair. With a grunt of recollection I reached for the knife in my pocket and managed to cut the ropes that had held me fastly bound. Stumbling to my feet I burst through the door as if it were cardboard and sprinted across the yard towards the shed where I hoped they had put my brother.

"Dean!" I screamed as I flung open the door and scanned the darkness with tearing eyes. "Oh God," I exhaled as I finally spotted his body, flung un-mercilessly into the corner as if another article of trash.

"Dean," I called as I crouched to half-lift, half-drag him out of the shed and into the light. I immediately realized that this was a bad idea, as the light of day only gave me a sudden urge to throw-up at the site of his bloodied body. The blood had completely soaked through his bandage and shirt and dripped down the front of his pants, drying in its course. His skin had a horrible gray tinge, and his whole body was limp and unmoving.

"Dean…" this time it came-out as a whisper, a lifeless prayer for a response. I couldn't make my arm reach to check a pulse, my head lean to listen for breath. Tears by this time were staining my face, dripping down to spatter the front of my shirt.

And then movement. A faint rising of the chest. A weak fluttering of the eyelids.

"Dean?" I prodded, hand on his cheek.

"This has officially been the worst day of my life," came the low groan as Dean's green eyes finally appeared.

"Yeah, you can say that again," I muttered as I sank back onto my heels in relief.

"I would, but for some reason talking makes the large hole in my stomach hurt," Dean grunted as he wearily coughed.

"Okay, we've gotta get you to the hospital," I stated, a new sense of urgency driving me to action. I slowly maneuvered my hands under Dean's arms and lifted him to his feet, then placing his limp left arm over my shoulders, began to lug him towards the car.

"Easy dude," Dean winced as I carefully assisted him onto the passenger seat.

"Sorry," I blurted as I dashed to the driver's side of the car, retrieving the car keys I had unbelievably thought to grab off of the hook by the door. I started the car and quickly reversed up the driveway, spinning onto the main road. Dean was slumped over, barely awake, bleeding all over his precious leather seat that if in any other condition he would be furious about.

"Dean," I exclaimed loudly, scared to death that he was going to die.

"I'm still here Sammy," came the weary reply as his eyes flickered briefly open and then closed.

"You've gotta stay awake okay? Why don't you talk to me about something? Umm… tell me how you got here," I rambled crazily while glancing nervously at Dean's body sinking ever-lower on the seat.

"I rode a horse…" came the faint whisper.

"What?" I almost laughed. The blood loss had obviously taken its toll on Dean's lucidity. "Alright tell me about this horse," I smiled, deciding to humor him.

There was no answer.

"Dean!" I yelled sparing a quick glance off of the road that told me all I needed to know.

Dean wasn't conscious.

I stepped on the gas.


	7. Chapter 7

**So I've been sick which really sucks. But here's the next chapter, sorry it's been so long. I love reviews so review you should. Cheers!**

_sam…_

The next hour of my life was a blur. I drove like a maniac to the hospital, nearly killing a poor elderly couple walking across the parking lot. I brought the impala to a screeching stop in front of the emergency room entrance, flung myself out of the car and raced inside screaming that I needed;

"Help! Please somebody help… my brother's been stabbed!"

"Sir," what appeared to be a nurse approached me as several attendants rushed to the impala with a gurney. "Explain to me what happened."

"Umm…" I ran my hand nervously through my hair while struggling to keep my thoughts together and produce a believable story. "We were driving and stopped to help a guy who was broken-down… and umm, he stabbed Dean, my brother, drove off and then I drove here." (I figured it was pretty much the truth anyway).

"Okay sir," she started her arm reaching for mine.

"It's Sam," I interrupted her while lunging to the side of the gurney that had just been pushed through the door, on which my brother lay unconscious. "Dean!" I called, shaking his shoulder frantically.

"Sam," the nurse attempted to recall my attention, "You have to let us work on your brother, he's in good hands."

"Okay, okay," I muttered sinking into the nearest chair, completely overwhelmed by the events of the last… god had it really been just a day?

"Sam," the nurse started while sitting next to me. "Can I get you anything?"

"Yeah," I retorted tiredly, "my brother."

The nurse smiled faintly, and stood to leave, "I'll let you know when we have any news on his condition."

"Thanks," I mumbled, slightly embarrassed by my abrasive attitude. I leaned back in the chair and moved to rub my eyes when I stopped horrified at the realization that my hands were covered in blood. Dean's blood.

"Umm Nurse," I called to her retreating back, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

"Yes?" she replied turning to face me.

"The bathroom?" I blurted.

"Down that hall to the left," she answered with a look of concern in her eyes.

"Thanks," I grunted as I set off at a fast walk. I burst into the bathroom and pounced on the sink, frantically rubbing soap on my hands, desperate to rid them of the rusty tinge they had acquired. I compulsively washed until I caught out of the corner of my eye the look on my face reflected in the mirror. Stopping the water, I bent, hands resting on each side of the sink and peered deeply at the story my face told. I saw dark circles underlining eyes that had a disconcerting hint of insanity in them. Rubbing my face furiously with now "clean" hands, I slowly sunk to the floor. And there I sat, on the floor of a hospital bathroom, until restless sleep claimed me.

_dean…_

Utterly relieved by the fact that Sam was alright, his brain was intact and I was back sitting in my beloved car, I felt myself begin to fade. Sam's inflecting voice fell in and out amongst the pounding drums that were playing in my head. I felt my eyes close and struggled to fight the blackness, to hang-on to Sam's voice, to respond… and then there was nothing.

I was standing alone, surrounded by white and for the first time in my life completely and overwhelmingly scared. "I'm dead," I thought as I turned and wildly looked as if expecting to see angels descending on me from all sides.

"Hello?" I questioned the stillness while frantically circling. "Is there anyone there?"

"Dean," a whisper came from an undetectable direction.

"Who's there?" I couldn't hide the uncharacteristic shake in my voice.

"Dean." And suddenly she appeared in front of me.

"Mom?" I murmured barely containing the gasp that rose from my lungs.

"Yes baby, it's me," she smiled and reached out to touch the side of my face and then pulled-back right before contact, a frown spreading over her face.

"Mom?" I questioned confusedly. "What's wrong?"

"You shouldn't be here honey. This is not his time," she suddenly yelled to the whiteness around us.

"What do you mean… am I dead?" I choked on the words as if they were poison.

"No, no you're not. You're just in limbo. You can fight this," she answered her eyes blazing with passion.

"I'm so tired," I found myself mutter and suddenly I was on the ground not knowing how I got there.

"Dean, you look at me," my mom cried kneeling beside me and grasping the sides of my face. "You can fight this, you're strong! You live Dean! You live… live for Sam!"

"Sammy?" I weakly whispered remembering the fear in my brother's voice as he tried to keep me awake- remembering the look on his face when I first opened my eyes.

"Your brother needs you, he needs you more than I do," my mom declared silent tears streaming down her face.

"Mom I…" I started before she interrupted.

"No Dean, you fight this… you hang on…" her face began to fade, the white light was disappearing- I fought to stay with her, fought to hang on like she said, but the blackness was winning the battle and finally…

…I surrendered.


	8. Chapter 8

**It's been eons since I've written, I know. I've been swamped with work and my senior year finally winding down. I can't wait to graduate and be done with high school, it's an exciting but scary prospect. So anyway, here's the next chapter; I know it's not very long but it is what it is. I hope you like. Review please. Ciao. **

_sam…._

An hour later found me wearily holding vigil at my motionless brother's bedside. The doctor had just told me in the standard emotionless tone, that there was "nothing more they could do." Apparently the "internal bleeding was significant" and "only time would tell" if Dean would survive. Having completely exhausted his supply of clichés, the doctor had left me alone to stare out the window, at the horrifically gaudy painting across from it, the faintly beeping heart monitor- anywhere but my brother's pale face.

It was now mid-morning, and even in the circumstances my body would not let me forget that it had been basically a day-and-a-half since I had last tasted food. Unwilling to leave Dean's side, but tired of listening to my growling stomach; I decided to search for a vending machine. I wandered aimlessly down the sterile corridor, painted the most putrid green color- as if they needed to remind people that this was a place of illness and death. Eventually I came across a machine that had the usual display of chips and soda. I smiled as my eyes fell upon the packages of peanut M&M's- Dean's favorite. I selected instead a bag of cheetos' and was just bending to retrieve the bag from the bastardly hatch, designed to make it near-impossible for your hand to escape unscathed- when I heard the most horrifying noise in my life.

A shrill beep, the signature flat-line alarm was screaming from Dean's room. I briefly heard a nurse announce "code-blue" as I turned to follow the stream of doctors and nurses, all racing towards Dean's bed. At the door I was nearly clothes-lined by a beastly male-nurse who told me in an infuriating calm voice that I "needed to let them work," and that I "should wait outside." Entirely sick of being told what to do, especially when it involved not being able to see Dean, I considered beating the nurse into the ground and proceeding into the room anyway. Instead I shrunk-away, like a dog with its tail between its legs, and collapsed in the nearest chair. My head slowly sunk into my hands as I listened to the barrage of voices…

… the last thing I heard was "still nothing."

_dean…_

My mother's voice and the whiteness surrounding slowly disappeared and were replaced by muddied shapes and colors. I could vaguely hear voices, shouts, a faint piercing ring- and then I was flying. Not really flying but rising, floating as if weightless and then I saw myself.

"No way," I muttered completely disbelieving. As if straight out of a corny chick-flick I was seeing my own death, drifting overhead as a ghostly apparition, caught in the moment of decision- choose to live or die.

I looked like shit. My face was so pale it was hard to determine where the pillow started and ended. My heart had apparently stopped because doctors were frantically administering CPR in between shocks from the defribulator.

"I'm not dead!" I fiercely exclaimed to the room below me, concentrating my every strength on returning to my body, willing myself to breathe, my heart to beat. "I'm not giving-up this easy, dammit!" I screamed as I felt a tug as if an invisible hand were pulling me upward.

"No," I growled, struggling against the unseen force. "Where's my brother?" I thought wildly. "Where's Sammy?" And then as if in answer to my unvoiced question I was dragged out of the room to see my brother, looking completely lost on a waiting-room chair, still clutching a forgotten bag of cheetos.

"Sam!" I called although by now I knew that I could not communicate with the people I was seeing- just like Scrooge in _A Christmas Carol. _"I'm not leaving my brother," I announced to the force, whether it be the devil or God. "I'm not going to die…" I mumbled as I felt myself fading.

Sam's face was flickering, the colors of clothing mixing blurrily with the surrounding colors of the hospital. I felt light-headed and tight of breath which was almost a nice alternative to the peaceful lack of feeling. I slowly drifted back into the room and downward, melting into my own body.

"I can't breathe," was my first frantic though as I reclaimed myself.

And so I gasped for air.


	9. Chapter 9

**It is finished. Final chapter comin' at ya. Sorry for the long delay- I graduate tomorrow (so I've been a little busy). Well it's been a pleasure as always. I'd love you to review the last chapter… give me your final thoughts. Cheers. **

_sam…_

"We've got a regular rhythm," a doctor wearily stated after the most terrifying 2 ½ minutes of my life. I felt my body rise to its feet, although I never made any conscious decision, as a tired-looking doctor approached me while removing his gloves.

"You're a relative?" he questioned with a sigh.

"Yes, I'm his brother. Is he going to be alright?" I gasped without taking a breath.

"Your brother's heart stopped, but we were able to resuscitate him. He's breathing on his own and I have faith that he will make a full recovery," the doctor stated, letting a fatigued smile break his stony façade.

"Thank you," I mumbled, fighting to hold back the sudden onset of relieved emotion that was threatening to announce itself in the form of completely un-masculine tears. "May I see him?" I asked quickly in my attempt to depart from the man I was about to cry in front of.

"Of course," he answered simply and started off towards another patient, another source of worry for his wrinkled forehead.

I rushed into Dean's room and felt my heart dance when I discovered the faint color that was pervading Dean's self-proclaimed "ruggedly handsome" features. Smiling I sank into the chair next to his bed and opened my bag of cheetos.

"Mmmm… That hits the spot."

_dean…_

It was sleep this time that held me unconscious. Pure, contented sleep that I wasn't in a hurry to escape. But if there was one thing more than rest I wanted it was to see Sam's smile. The nightmare that had been the past 2 days was my fault- I had put Sam's life at risk. I was supposed to be the heroic older brother, not the dumb-ass brother who nearly got his younger brother's brain sucked-out. But boy did I want to see Sammy's face.

Waking-up was like swimming to the surface of a deep lake that I had been drowning in for far too long. As oxygen poured into my lungs and my eyes blinked quickly against the harsh light streaming through the blinds, I realized that I was in fact alive and with that realization came the epiphany that I was in fact in excruciating pain. "Punishment. Deserved; for nearly getting Sam killed," I scolded myself and swallowed the nausea that threatened to suck me into oblivion.

"Hey," my raspy voice scratched like nails on a chalkboard. "Don't I deserve a proper welcome back to the world of the living?"

Sam's startled smile emerged brilliantly from behind the newspaper he was reading. "Dean, you're awake! You scared the shit out of me," he growled tossing the newspaper away.

"Yeah well that makes two of us," I muttered, attempting to adjust positions while not managing to keep the groan of pain from escaping my parched lips.

"You okay? You shouldn't try to move around too much," Sam chided as he leapt to assist me, fluffing my pillow like the perfect nurse; tall, brunette- just not the right sex, "and your brother, Dean," I reminded my addled brain.

"I'm fine Sammy," I laughed, surprised by the excessive joy that was consuming my persona. "In fact I'm great."

"Well I don't know about that," Sam laughed, joining in my good mood. "But fine I can deal with. It's good to have you back."

"Yeah I missed you too," I smirked, playfully punching his arm.

"Just don't do that to me again. Any of it. Don't let a demon kidnap me and the car, don't get yourself stabbed and don't…"

"Never," I interrupted, a serious tone invading Sam's rambling. "I'll never let it happen again."

"Okay," Sam smiled and for a flitting moment I thought he was going to hug me. "That was almost a chick-flick moment Dean," he solemnly mocked.

"Don't start with me. I may be injured but I can still kick your ass," I warned a grin spreading over my face.

"Oh yah? Bring it on invalid!" Sam jibed, dancing out of reach of my misaimed punch.

"Just you wait till I can get up. Then you're gonna get it!" I pouted.

And Sam laughed.

And I laughed.

And _life_ was good.

**THE END**


End file.
